


Sunday Best

by palominopup



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Daddy Castiel, Daddy Dean, Easter, Fluff and Mush, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-14
Updated: 2016-03-14
Packaged: 2018-05-26 17:27:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6248932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/palominopup/pseuds/palominopup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and his son meet Cas and his little girl as the town's annual Easter egg hunt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunday Best

 

Divorce sucked. Dean looked out at all the families dressed in their Easter clothes and sighed. Anna was gone and she wasn’t coming back. Dean didn’t care that she’d left him, but Robbie kept asking for her and that was why divorce sucked.

  
He rested his hand on Robbie’s head. His son’s ginger hair was blowing in the soft breeze. His mom insisted on their matching outfits and while the vest and bow tie worked for a three year old, Dean felt foolish.

  
“If this damn thing doesn’t start soon, Robbie’s going to pitch a fit,” Dean muttered under his breath to his brother, Sam.

  
“Give him a piece of chocolate to tide him over,” Sam suggested. Dean scowled, just as his mom snapped a picture. She pursed her lips and he shrugged apologetically.

  
“And have him amped up on sugar? Are you crazy?”

  
“Okay, everyone, we need the two to four year olds in this area over there. Please follow Ms. Moseley,” the mayor instructed, pointing to his secretary. Dean grabbed Robbie’s hand and led him over to a roped off section of the park.

Dean knelt down. “Okay, Buddy, take your basket and when they blow the whistle, grab as many eggs as you can.” Dean handed Robbie his now empty Easter basket. His son looked into it and then back up at Dean.

  
“Candy.”

  
“Yeah, your candy is at home. We can have some of that later. It’s time to get eggs now. Remember grab ‘em all.”

  
“Dean, this is about having fun, not getting the most eggs,” Sam said at the same time he plastered a smile on his face. Dean heard the click of his mother’s camera.

  
“Try to smile, Dean,” his mom called out from the crowd of other grandparents and spectators. Before he could comment, a whistle blew and Dean gave his son a gentle shove in the direction of the eggs. Brightly colored plastic eggs were littering the ground. Robbie squealed and set off at a clumsy run, the fake Easter grass leaving a trail behind him. He hoped his mom was videoing this.

  
Dean kept up with his boy, occasionally pointing to an egg that his son missed. He had to give it to his kid, he was competitive. As he watched Robbie snatch a yellow one right out from under another toddler. Okay, maybe too competitive. He was about to say something about being nice when Robbie pushed a little blonde girl down and started grabbing the eggs that fell out of her basket. “Fuck,” he muttered before rushing over. “Robbie, no. That’s not nice.”

  
He bent down to help the little girl up, when a pair of dark slacks and shiny shoes appeared in his line of sight. Without looking up, Dean said, “Sorry, he just got a bit excited.”

  
“No harm done.” Jeez, was the guy a four pack a day smoker? That voice was porn worthy. Dean let his eyes travel upwards. Crisp crease, nice package, nicely ironed white shirt, blue tie and…fuck me sideways…the man was gorgeous. But the trenchcoat…a bit warm for it…he had a kid…so he couldn’t be a flasher…could he? Dean didn’t realize he was openly staring into the brilliant blue eyes until the man spoke. “Claire, brush off your dress. You’re okay.”

  
Only then did Dean pay attention to the two children again. The little girl was dressed in a pink floral dress with tiny pink flip flops. While Robbie’s basket was from the local Walmart, this kid’s was made of real rattan with pink silk flowers attached to it. The handle even had ribbon wrapped around it. “Your wife must be Martha Stewart,” Dean said, trying to sound friendly. God, he was unworthy.

  
“I’m not married.” Dean pulled his eyes away from the kids, now sitting on the grass, opening the eggs one by one.

  
“Divorce is a bitch, huh?”

  
“I’m not divorced,” said Mr. Sexy Voice.

  
“Oh.” Dean wasn’t sure how to work that out. Not married, but not divorced. His confusion must have registered on his face.

  
“My fiancé and I had a surrogate. He left before Claire was born.” Dean’s mind went offline for a second. He said _he_ left. Mr. Tall, Dark and Dreamy was gay.

  
“I’m bi,” Dean blurted out and winced. “Sorry…I meant to say that I’m divorced.” Bi and divorced aren’t even close to sounding the same. He felt his ears burning and knew he was probably beet red.

  
“That’s nice and I’m sorry,” Sexy Voice said with obvious amusement.

  
“Huh?” Dean was so not following the conversation now.

  
“It’s nice that you are bi and I’m sorry you’re divorced,” he said, carefully enunciating each word like Dean was Robbie’s age.

  
“I’m not…I mean…shit…I really am bi, but not really upset about the divorce. Well, I am…but only because of Robbie. I don’t care that she left me…but she left her own kid. What kind of person can even do that? Did you make her basket?” And now he had diarrhea of the mouth. Just great. The most gorgeous person he’d talked to in a long time and he comes across as a moron.

  
“I did not weave the rattan, but I did hot glue the flowers and ribbon in it. And I’m not sure how some people can walk away from their children.” Dean watched long fingers ruffle the golden locks. The toddler was standing now, pulling on her dad’s pant leg. Robbie was eating jelly beans off the ground. Crap, both of them looked like they belonged in the movie _The Hills Have Eyes_. Dean reached down and picked Robbie up, propping him on his hip.

  
“Yeah, well, good talking to you,” Dean mumbled. He reached down for Robbie’s basket at the same time the other man did and they banged heads. “Ow,” Dean yelped. “God, I’m sorry.”

  
“It’s quite all right,” Sexy Voice said, rubbing his forehead.

  
“Look, I’m normally not a clutz…or this…” Dean paused, scratching his head. “…socially inept.”

  
“My brother tells me I’m socially inept.” It was stated so matter-of-factly that Dean had to laugh. This brought a smile to the other man’s face and Dean felt a warm feeling in his belly.

  
“I’m Dean.”

  
“Castiel.” Dean raised an eyebrow. “And this is Claire.”

  
“Castiel?”

  
“Religious parents.” He held up a finger for each name he said aloud, “Gabriel, Michael, Raphael and Uriel.”

  
“Wow. Big family. Good thing they didn’t keep going. You might have had a brother named Lucifer,” Dean said and then mentally kicked himself. He needed to just shut up and walk away before the man thought he was certifiable.  
Castiel…fuck that…it was too big of a mouthful. Cas. That’s it, just Cas. Cas tilted his head to the side and it was freakin’ adorable. “That would have been awkward,” he said dryly. Robbie picked that time to poke Dean in his cheek.

  
“Hungry, Daddy.”

  
“Okay, Buddy.” Dean shrugged. “I guess I’ll see you around.”

  
“Perhaps,” Castiel said softly, giving Dean a nod before taking his little girl’s hand and walking away.

  
“Dumbass,” Dean muttered. He didn’t even get the guy’s last name.

  
“Dubass,” Robbie repeated. Dean thanked God and everything holy his mother wasn’t in hearing distance.

  
When he got close to Sam and Mary Winchester, both looked at him speculatively. “Who were you talking to, Dean?”

  
“Just some guy, Mom. Robbie got a bit over-zealous and knocked his kid down.”

  
“I told you not to send him out like he’s storming the beach at Normandy,” Sam said, reaching out his arms. Robbie went over to him, leaving Dean holding his basket full of eggs.

  
A short time later, the Winchester family sat down on the large quilt while Mary unpacked their picnic lunch. Robbie was already yawning and Dean knew he’d be down for the count after they ate. He was reaching for a paper plate filled with fried chicken and deviled eggs when a flash of pink caught his eye. It was Cas’ daughter. Dean’s eyes scanned the surrounding area. The little girl wouldn’t be far from her father. And there he was. The tie was loose now, the trench coat was gone and the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up to his elbows. Forearms had never been a particular sexy part of the body to Dean, but suddenly, he thought they were worth a second…and third glance. As if feeling Dean’s eyes on him, the man met Dean’s gaze and held it. Dean licked his lips. Damn, he should have just asked the guy for coffee…or a play date for the kids. Just two men…drinking coffee…nothing special…not a date or anything.

  
“I’ll watch Robbie if you want to go talk to your new friend,” his mother whispered in his ear, startling him so bad that he almost wound up wearing his lunch. Green eyes flew to hers and he saw understanding there. He could never keep anything from her. Uneasily, he looked over at Sam, but his brother was rummaging in the cooler for a soft drink and not paying any attention.

  
Before he could chicken out, Dean stood up, brushed off the ass of his jeans and walked towards Cas. “Hello again, Dean,” Cas said as Dean neared him.

  
“Hey…uhm…Cas…I was…wondering…”

  
“Would you like to come over for coffee and pie this evening?” Was Cas looking at his lips? He was…he was so looking at his lips. Dean licked them again and saw Cas tracking the movement. Then the man’s words penetrated his brain.

  
“Wait…what…pie? Did you say pie?”

  
“Yes, but if you don’t like pie, I can bake a cake,” Cas said earnestly.

  
“Will you marry me?” Again, words just spewed out of his mouth like a bad case of the runs. What was it about this man?

  
“Perhaps we should go on a date first,” Cas said, a smile teasing the corner of his mouth.

  
“A date…yeah…that would be good.”

  
***

  
“And you didn’t think Dad was lame?” Robbie asked his stepfather after Dean told the story of how his dad, and the man he’d come to call Papa, met.

  
“I was not lame,” Dean said, carving the large ham. “I was adorable.”

  
“He was adorable,” Cas said softly, taking the mashed potatoes from Mary to pass to Claire.

  
Claire, at sixteen, just rolled her eyes. “You just wanted to get into his pants.”

  
Claire Elizabeth Novak-Winchester,” both men shouted at the same time. Robbie smirked the way he always did when Claire said something outrageous.

  
“What? It’s the truth,” Mary said, with a teasing smile. Being the only other female in the family, she sided with Claire on a regular basis.

  
“Jeez, do we have to bring up sex at Easter dinner,” Sam asked, shaking his head and rolling his eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked this bit of fluff.
> 
> For those of you who like my stuff, I've created a FB group page. I'll post my stuff there and you can give me prompts. https://www.facebook.com/groups/550258875175871/


End file.
